This book will always be indelibly associated in my mind with an ailing, bloated Marlon Brandon mumbling through his part as the title character while being followed around by a tiny, identically dressed dwarf. I'm sorry, H.G. Wells, that's just the way it is.This is a pretty good sci-fi horror story, especially considering it's so old and peppered with casual racism. It's not quite as good as The Time Machine, but it's similar in a lot of ways. What is Wells' obsession with all his books being big long letters or stories that have been discovered by a colleague or relative? Can't the protagonist just tell us his own story? Anyway, there's this island, like the island on Lost, except instead of the smoke monster it has a bloated Marlon Brando named Dr. Moreau, who mumbles and somehow turns animals into manimal-horrors through a carefully regulated process of torturing them. Do you know what vivisection means? It's like surgery, but without anesthetic, and it is generally performed by Nazis, evil Japanese WWII doctors and mad scientists, of which Moreau is one, even though he never says anything really choice like "IT'S ALIVE! I AM AS A GOD!"Of course, he doesn't really need to, since Wells slathers on all the "folly of playing god" stuff with a pretty generous trowel. There's also a bunch of stuff about the inherent beastly nature of man, and society as a mere scrim over our animal passions, fragile enough to be ripped away in any moment of great strife. Also some stuff about how men follow God without really understanding his nature, merely parroting a set of laws that are really only there as a means of control.So, all good stuff, and the prose is very brisk and readable for a 115-year-old book. Sadly, however, mini-Moreau was a cinematic invention, which means we can't blame Austin Powers 2 on H.G. Wells.